The Ramblings of An Introvert
by honeybeewrites
Summary: A collections of letters written by Spencer Reid as he finds out what it means to be in love. Taken and tweaked from my reader-insert series on tumblr(bookofreid)
1. Chapter 1

_March 15th_

Dear Friend,

It's been awhile since we've spoken so I hope this letter finds you in good health. You've been one of the few who I've ever felt truly understood and so I apologize if you find my ramblings too intimate or crossing boundaries. You don't have to reply to these letters. In fact, you don't even have to read them if you don't want to.

I've been struggling with my demons lately. I can't sleep. My mind feels fogged, and I can't even concentrate on the cases as much as I usually do. I'll start thinking about victimology and about how to narrow our location down. But in an instant my mind just shuts down and I'm left staring blankly at the map in front of me for minutes, but never truly seeing the lines of patterns across the city. I think JJ has noticed. She's walked in a few times and caught me staring off into space. I noticed the flash of worry in her eyes. I don't want to burden them with my emotions so I keep it to myself whenever they ask.

I don't know whether this pain is true or stems from my mind and my loneliness. I lie awake at night and I feel as if there's nothing out there for me. I'm good at what I do. I catch killers. I bring justice. My genius mind is an asset that the BAU can't afford to lose. It's easy to get lost in the accolades. Even easier to keep your mind busy when there's so much evil to be caught. But what no one ever talks about is that feeling of being forsaken that seeps into you the moment you're alone in your home, the one place that should provide at least an ounce of comfort after a troubling day.

Sometimes I lay in bed for hours and it's like I can still feel the Dilaudid running through my veins. It's almost as if nothing has changed despite the years passing, friends leaving, and the lines on my face becoming more prominent. It's hard, for a lack of a better word as I write this at ungodly hours of the morning when you are surely asleep. I never thought it would be this way. Picturing a bright future was always what got me through my childhood. It's the reason I endured the teasing. The reason I even put my mom away. The day I joined the FBI I thought, _finally,_ I found my place.

That was true for a while. I'm not so sure anymore.

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _March 28th_

Dear Friend,

I continue to feel the same way. I still find myself caught up in my own head. I've begun to have migraines again and it terrifies me to think that I may be heading down the same road as my mother. I always knew I was special, but the moment I realized that my genius stemmed from an illness, suddenly I didn't feel special anymore. I felt cursed. I'm going to see a doctor soon. Maybe they'll figure out what's wrong this time around. I try to convince myself that it's just from lack of sleep because that's a much more comforting thought than the other possibility.

We got a new team member today. It seems like the millionth one now. It's like everyone moves on with their lives but I always seem to stay. Maybe it's because my job gives me the validation that I so desperately need. My only friends are here. That plays a role as well. At this point of my life the mere thought of change strikes a certain fear in me. I want things to be stable. I want to find joy and love. I dream of finding the perfect person. No, I take that back. She doesn't even have to be perfect. She just has to be loving, she just has to be understanding. I come with a lot of baggage, and maybe that's the reason why I remain alone. No one wants to date the man who sent their own mother away, who was addicted to a drug, who either babbles on over insignificant matters or remains silent for hours. No one wants someone who requires patience.

Anyway, I was left rooted to the floor the moment she walked in with JJ. I had never seen anyone so beautiful before. She introduced herself and I didn't shake her hand. I wanted to, but you know how I am. I was afraid that she would be insulted but thankfully she wasn't. Her eyes seemed so lively and her smile was… I can't think of the word to describe it. That's how much she took me by surprise, that _I_ of all people can't think of a damn word.

I hope she stays. She radiates a warmth I've never felt before. It's something I could get used to.

Best Regards,  
Spencer


	2. Chapter 2

_April 14th_

Dear Friend,

I went to the doctor today. I finally forced myself after putting it off for a few weeks as I am reluctant to accept any diagnosis at the moment. I don't know what's worse; knowing or not knowing. They're both equally terrifying to me. They did a variety of different tests, many with names too long for me to bother stating them for you, in order to try and pinpoint what was going on inside of my body. They said they'd call with the results in a few days and I've been trying to push the thought away the moment I left the hospital building.

Our newest member continues to win everyone over as the days pass by. After the constant come and go of dear friends, everyone was skeptical about allowing her into their hearts. After only two weeks, it seems as if everyone naturally gravitates towards her.

"She's great, isn't she?" Penelope asked me one random day. I wasn't expecting the question, so I could only mutter back a one worded answer.

"Yeah."

She stood there, making herself coffee like she did every morning. I'm not sure what it was exactly that constantly drew my attention to her. Sometimes I wouldn't even notice until she cleared her throat, and my cheeks would burn as I realized that I had been gazing at her as if she was a piece of art and I was merely an admirer who could do nothing but wonder what the beautiful strokes of art felt like underneath my fingertips.

I know what you're thinking, but she has a boyfriend. I immediately shut down the idea of her ever being interested in me the second I found out. Just my luck, right? It wasn't as if I ever stood a chance anyhow. Someone with that kind of luminous grace obviously attracts all sorts of suitors. She didn't speak much about him, just saying that he was an ex-marine. She showed us a picture of the two of them and he was definitely well built, his body the complete opposite of my own. I'm not entirely sure how that made me feel but I know it wasn't ecstatic.

"Do you love him?"

Her smile wavered and I wondered if I had crossed a line by asking the simple question. I didn't think I had, but the look on her face that flashed for a fraction of a second was enough to convince me otherwise. I suppose I still lack skill when it comes to social cues.

"Yeah," she replied softly, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear uncomfortably, "of course."

I couldn't help but notice the lack of excitement in her voice as she spoke. Whenever JJ speaks about Will there's a hint of adoration laced between her words, the thought of him enough to bring her a sense of comfort during our days filled with nothing but death and violence. Her voice was absent of these things. Her eyes seemed to dull as she forced a smile when Penelope asked to know more, only to hastily change the subject when she saw her reaction. Penelope has picked up a few profiler tricks, and reading body language is certainly one. I think she knew that we all noticed. That's just something profilers do.

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _June 25th_

Dear friend,

I apologize for not writing sooner. You may have been worried, or you may have not. Either way, I apologize.

We recently dealt with horrible cases that seemed to happen back to back without giving us any room to breathe. I welcomed it, though. It gave me a distraction from my own mind.

As for my medical issue, the results are in and yet again, nothing. I remember thinking that maybe I'm just going insane. Maybe I've hit some sort of wall, that mid-life crisis except instead of buying something extravagant my body decided to turn on me. To internalize that fear of change into a physical pain.

But I'm not old enough to be anywhere near that stage in life and I shouldn't be complaining because the headaches have lessened. I hate to admit, or rather I'm embarrassed to, but I credit her for it. She has surprisingly been so wonderfully kind, bringing me a peace of mind that helps me sleep at night. I found myself talking to her until the late hours during one of our cases. She had knocked on my door with a cheap bottle of wine after noticing the way I had riled up when our case involved children being bullied. It was like she saw straight through me then, finally understanding what made the "eccentric genius" the way he was.

We sat together in my bed for hours. She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her cheeks flushed from the glass of alcohol in her hands. And we spoke about everything. She spoke of her childhood, of her school experiences, of her most embarrassing moments.

And her laugh, my god her _laugh._ It was like genuinely experiencing happiness for the first time.

Have you ever looked at someone who you've known for a while, and then they do something that changes everything? I've heard stories. I've read about them too. About the way suddenly someone smiles and it's the most enchanting thing you've seen even though you shouldn't be affected. Or about the way the sunlight illuminates them and suddenly it's as if they've transformed into this angel sent from heaven just for you, and just like that your mind doesn't belong to you anymore.

Instead it's consumed by thoughts of them. It's the way they smile, the way they light up the room, the way they know exactly what to say at the exact moment you need to hear it. I had heard about these experiences, but I always thought it was fiction. That they were just words painting pictures from a hopeless romantic's mind.

It wasn't until I heard her laugh that I understood. Since that moment that's all I can picture. Her head tilted, resting on her knees as she looked at me with glossy eyes and rose red cheeks, her lips parted in a soft laugh.

I always prided myself in my knowledge of art. I always knew the different brush strokes, the colors, the inspiration behind each piece. I had the library and my lack of social skills growing up to thank for that. Until that moment I never truly understood the role of a muse. I knew the definition, but I didn't comprehend the depth of feeling behind it. I've never been an artist, that much can be seen from the doodles in the edges of my books, but there was something about her that made me want to pick up a paintbrush and paint her in golds and silvers, to somehow capture the beauty of her essence onto a piece of canvas that I could cherish forever. Instead I found her in my dreams- in reds, yellows, and blues, looking at me with those same sparkling eyes from that fateful night. She was something I had never seen before. She was something I wasn't ready for.

For once my fear of the dark doesn't seem too horrible as long as I get to see her once the light trickles back in.

Best Regards,  
Spencer


	3. Chapter 3

_July 2nd_

Dear Friend,

Have you ever seen something that felt like a kick to your stomach? As if someone had knocked the wind out of you, with your knees shaking as they threatened to fall underneath you and send you tumbling down, ready to cause even more pain than you were already feeling. When the air is knocked out of your lungs and you feel yourself gasping, desperate to stay alive and yet feeling as if the world holds nothing for you, your mind unconsciously deciding whether to labor on or simply give up.

That is exactly how I felt when she threw herself between me and the bullet that escaped our unsub's gun, headed straight for me with a terrifying malice behind it. I could see myself moving towards her as she fell to the floor, clutching her side as waves of red terror poured from her. I could feel my hands applying pressure as another distant gunshot went off, this time bringing the man across the room to his own knees. But I didn't care that he was down, that he was taking his last breath just steps away from me. All that mattered was that the girl in front of me didn't stop fighting for her own life. And my mouth muttered words that I can't even recount for you because all I could hear was my own blood pumping as the thought of losing her passed through my mind.

I've always known the risks of the job. I am well aware that each day out in the field could be my last, and therefore I try to remain mindful of what I say and do with others. The last thing I ever want is to leave this world and have someone believe that I hated them, or that I was indifferent. And as my hands pressed against her, the words falling from my lips desperately trying to keep her with me as her eyes threatened to close, all I could think about was that.

 _"I think I'll take a day for myself when we get home. Just a day to maybe drive out to an open field and sit and ponder life. Maybe look at the night sky once the stars are out. It would be so nice to get away from everyone," she said as she yawned, the irises of her eyes beginning to appear red from exhaustion after staying up until ungodly hours of the morning._

 _"That sounds incredibly relaxing. And slightly dangerous to be out all alone in an open field."_

 _She smiled that million dollar smile that made my heart flutter as if it was not an organ but instead a hummingbird trying to break free._

 _"You're welcome to join."_

 _"I thought you said you wanted to get away from everyone."_

 _Her smile softened as her eyes seemed to shine, breaking through their tiredness as if to provide me with a glimmer of hope._

 _"I don't think I'd want to get away from you," she replied lightly, a soft laugh escaping her captivating lips. "You. I could keep you around forever."_

 _I simply grinned, unable to speak as the mere warmth of her being radiated from her and through me. My throat closed, overwhelmed by the feeling of somehow being touched by her soft sound, a feeling so gentle it was but a ghost of something more profound._

The ambulance took her away. We rushed behind it, waiting in complete silence as she was thrown into surgery. My sweaty hands clenched the fabric of my pants the entire time as my mind screamed, cursing me for not having replied earlier.

I could keep her around forever. I wanted to. I needed to. She was an integral part of my life now after having arrived so suddenly. I found the stereotypical fairy tale roles reversed this time around as I found myself being the one who was unsuspectingly swept off his feet by a woman who wasn't even aware she was doing so.

Garcia called her boyfriend. He didn't even bother to show. I felt my anger flare, consuming me in chaotic waves as my hands shook. How could someone not care about their significant other being hospitalized? How could anyone show indifference when such a beautiful creature laid in suffering? How could someone like that possibly have a hold on someone so breathtakingly wonderful that my heart ached at her voice. It ached with need at the graceful hints of kindness laced in between every syllable she spoke.

She didn't ask for him once. She took one look around the room and it was like she knew he had not been there. Instead we crowded her, bringing her arrangements of roses and lilies to brighten up the barren white constraints of the small hospital room. She acted as if nothing had happened, as if the gunshot that had nearly stolen her away from us had been nothing but a scratch, the scraped knee of a child at play. She was nothing but happy despite being stuck in that room as she recovered.

It wasn't until I finally had her alone that I allowed myself to weep. I apologized for having put her life in danger because I was being careless, trying to reason with an unsub who was so blatantly gone past the edge. And she shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with disbelief as she assured me that it was not my fault. She repeated that multiple times but my cries wouldn't stop until she finally reached over and pulled me into a hug, wincing as I collided against her stitches but not ever complaining about it.

"Spencer, I would do it again if it meant saving your life."

How am I meant to live this way? What does one do with unrequited love? I have heard endless tales of its torments, of how it is the one thing known to kill a man as it grows. How am I meant to continue seeing her as only a friend when I want nothing more than to know what it is like to hold such a delicacy in my arms? How am I meant to live when my own fear stops me from admitting it?

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _August 3rd_

Dear Friend,

She and I recently went on that soul searching trip she had previously spoken about once she was better. I was taken by surprise when she pulled up to my apartment with a truck I had never seen before only to be told she had borrowed it from a friend specifically for the adventure. I hadn't realized just how serious she had been about the need to take such a day off until that moment.

We drove out to a field of daisies and laid on the soft ground, feeling the heat from the earth warm our backs. We laid there for hours, at first in comfortable silence and then with light conversation that seemed to flow easier than a river's current. The jokes so effortlessly dripped from my lips and her laughter drifted through the air with genuine amusement to them. I could try to explain just how happy I was at that moment as I stared at her sparkling eyes and the way she seemed to finally let go. I could try to explain how it felt to see her roll around in nature with flowers tangling themselves into her hair, the way beautiful things tend to gravitate towards other beautiful things, as if even the flowers knew how special she was and longed to be a part of her. I could try to explain the amount of joy I felt as we spoke as if we had been friends for ages, reincarnated in every lifetime and bound by string, waiting to be intertwined and tangled into each other's lives once more. I could try to explain, but no words would ever be enough to capture it all.

The day was gone in the blink of an eye and before I knew it, she was pulling out blankets and setting them up in the back of her truck. Like a magician she pulled pillows out of thin air and made the hard metal more comfortable than my own bed back home. So we sat at the edge of her truck as the sky was painted in shades of pinks and golds, as the day waved goodbye in its most glorious manner, both feeling overwhelmed by the knowledge that the day would soon come to an end and neither wanting to accept it.

The night came soon after and concealed the flowers we had laid upon just hours before. I felt myself stare straight ahead of me in absolute fear of not being able to see, feeling nearly suffocated by the sudden darkness. A gentle hand landed upon my shoulder, and it was her. She beckoned me to lay onto the pile of blankets beside her. So I did. And as soon as I did so it was as if the stars decided to come out and play. They lit up the sky the same way she lit up my soul, and I found myself staring at her as her wondrous gaze looked on as each speck of sparkling light emerged and consoled us from the fear of darkness. As if they were a reminder that they were there watching above us, their brilliance enough to comfort the terrors of my childhood.

My hand dared to reach for hers as I mentally prepared myself for the rejection I would face, for the speed in which she would immediately pull back. I prepared myself for the inevitable words that would be spoken as she would remind me that she belonged to another. I prepared myself to see her pull away, to maybe even climb into the driver's seat and speed off as she left me stranded in the middle of a field of flowers.

Imagine my surprise when her fingers instead intertwined with mine, the feel of her skin more satisfying than I could have ever imagined. I felt a gentle shiver shoot up my spine as I realized that she had accepted the timid gesture. Imagine the giant goofy smile that undoubtedly spread onto my face as she silently held onto me, gently but surely, her own gaze never once leaving the skies above us.

My mother used to tell stories about the stars. I think it began when she realized I had a fear of the dark. She would go on about how each speck of light was an angel who watched over the billions of humans on earth. About how they kept us safe at night, protecting everyone, especially children, from the monsters that lurked in the shadows. I often found comfort in thinking back to those stories, but I didn't need it that night. I didn't need to believe that there were angels in the sky when I had one laying beside me.

Best Regards,  
Spencer


	4. Chapter 4

_August 20th_

Dear Friend,

I wish I could tell you that after that day, the one that felt as if all of my dreams had come true, that she and I had a happy ending. I wish I could say that she fell so in love with me as we both stared at the skies above us that she went home and smiled, laughed, even giggled like a teenager in love for the first time. I wish I could say that she left her boyfriend, a man who was really no good for her, and ended up at my apartment in the dead of night with nothing but a small suitcase of her belongings and a gentle smile on her face. I wish I could tell you that I took her into my arms, only to find ourselves in bed as we made love the way poets do, with fingertips delicately etching words of adoration into each other's skin as the night sky filled with the same stars that had watched us before.

I wish I could say that, but then I'd be lying.

The truth was that she didn't show up to work the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that. Hotch announced that she had called him and asked for time off. That was that. Hotch made it clear that he would answer no questions regarding it although everyone's minds scrambled to understand. Nothing good ever came when someone asked for time off so suddenly. That was always reserved for emergencies; deaths in the family, sudden serious sickness or injury, or something along those lines. So everyone worried, myself included.

She reappeared a week later and we all felt our hearts sink to our stomachs the moment she walked in. She wore large sunglasses, the first indicator of what had happened. Despite the large frames covering her face we were still able to see the subtle ring of purple around her eyes, and the bruises on her arms which she desperately attempted to conceal with the sleeves of her shirt. The way she walked had changed. Before she would glide with the grace of angels, of a queen walking among her people with her head held high, knowing her worth and the admiration she held from others. Now she walked as if she wanted nothing more than to blend into the shadows and disappear. She had been beaten down into someone we failed to recognize.

She and Hotch remained locked away in his office for what seemed like hours that first day. Time passed on excruciatingly slow and my mind screamed, begging me to go and see what was happening. Everyone sat in silence when she finally emerged and took a seat at her desk, giving us nothing but an empty smile and no explanation. We all stared, but no one spoke. Our fears were too great to do so.

What is one meant to do when they know someone they care about finds themselves in a troubling situation? No one wants to give unsolicited advice, and no one wants to be the one to finally address the elephant in the room. Yet my heart aches as the days pass by and the bruises slowly fade. I live in fear of seeing them appear again, fresh and hideous against the skin of someone whose body deserves to be worshiped as a temple, not beaten down as if it was nothing more than another useless object.

Everyone moves around her carefully now as if she's a porcelain doll who needs to be handled with care. The most noticeable change among us is Hotch. Perhaps it's simply my mind over-analyzing, but his stares seem to linger longer. His hands brush against her comfortingly whenever he passes by, and he assigns her the lightest tasks he can. Maybe it's simply his way of attempting to help her, but it's begun to upset me. No one else seems to notice so I assume it's just my emotions getting the best of me. I remind myself that I have no right to feel jealous over someone who's not mine to begin with.

Best Regards,

Spencer

* * *

 _August 29th_

Dear Friend,

My mind was not overanalyzing. I was not reading too much into it, and I wasn't imagining things. No, that would have been much too kind of life to do to me. Instead it seemed to laugh in my face as it dangled what I loved in front of my eyes, wrapped in the arms of someone else.

I hadn't meant to walk in on them. I don't know why I didn't knock that day, but I cursed myself for not doing so. I felt my heart shatter in ways I wasn't aware I could even feel, as if someone had torn it out of my body and proceeded to stab it multiple times until it was no longer existent.

Hotch pulled away from her the second I barged in unannounced. He looked slightly angry at my intrusion while she merely stumbled back, a confused look written across her face as she looked between us. I could still see the remains of her lipstick on his lips, a pale pink color that was so subtle any other person would have missed it, but I didn't. I muttered a quick apology before storming off and I found myself in the men's bathroom, staring blankly at my reflection as my mind replayed the scene.

Was there always something going on between her and Hotch? My mind raced as it struggled to dig up previous situations. I came up empty, only being able to think of the recent events. There was nothing prior to that that came up. Nothing to indicate some form of affair. Nothing to even hint at it.

Either way I felt my jealousy flare in a way I had never experienced before. I could feel it fill my veins, threatening to turn me into a man I had never been. I could taste its bitterness in my mouth as I pictured her lips against his, and I found myself cursing the man who I had admired since the day I met him. They say jealousy turns you into a different person and I was experiencing that firsthand for the first time in my life.

She wouldn't look at me at first. I figured it was because she knew my feelings and didn't want to see the harm she had caused by picking a man, someone who I greatly admired no less, over me. Or maybe it was because she thought I would judge her for it. She still remained with her boyfriend, the picture on her desk evidence of that.

But then I saw the way she moved away from Hotch's touch. I saw the way she would try to distance herself as much as possible from him whenever we sat down for a case. The way she would sit on the opposite side of the plane and cling to JJ as if she were her lifeline. There was a look of anger and disappointment that crossed her eyes whenever she was left alone with him.

That's when I realized that my mind had misconstrued what I had seen. The look in her eyes when I had barged in was not confusion. It was contempt. It was anger at the way Hotch had taken advantage of her vulnerability to make his move as he himself could no longer contain the feelings he had come to harbor for her. She hadn't avoided my looks out of guilt, but out of shame. She thought I viewed her as some lowly woman sleeping with her boss even though that wasn't the case. She couldn't be more wrong.

I may not have much experience when it comes to love, but I know it's not supposed to hurt in such a cruel way. It's not supposed to leave you aching at night, feeling as if you had no one to care for you. It's not supposed to cause you serious harm, or to bruise you in such a way as it had bruised her.

I've seen the way real love hurts. It hurts when you care too much, when you want nothing more than to be with the one your heart belongs to. It hurts when things are said, when things are done, all actions that are capable of puncturing the sensitive soul of someone whose devotions are pure.

I saw it with Hotch and Haley before her passing. I saw it with JJ and Will.

This was the type of hurt that you struggled through because the love held between was worth so much more than the heartache. These were the situations in which love caused pain, but also gave you something to fight for.

We all breathed a sigh of relief when the picture of her boyfriend disappeared off of her desk. No one made a comment about it. No one asked. We simply knew. And we were happy.

I hope I find my strength soon to confess what I feel to her. I want to tell her that my heart belongs to her, and has for a while. To explain how she has taken hold of it with her charming smile and melodic laughter. To finally tell her of how I dream of what it would be like to simply hold her in my arms and know that she reciprocates every single ounce of love that moves in waves throughout me every time I catch sight of her. To tell her how I have fallen in love with her thoughts and the way she often speaks aloud to herself when she thinks no one is watching. To tell her I have fallen in love with the way she so often puts others before her. To tell her that I would put her first, that I do put her first.

To remind her that love is still worth believing in.

To remind her that she is still worth loving.

Best Regards,

Spencer


	5. Chapter 5

_September 30th_

Dear Friend,

It's been over a month since my last letter. I apologize if these letters seem to be the ramblings of a man infatuated with a woman he cannot have, and I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable in anyway. But it seems as though my mind is not my own anymore and the only way to make it so is to speak about the lovely being that has consumed it.

Every night my mind continues to be filled with waves of only thoughts of her. I picture the way she walks, the light skip in her step when her morning has been kind and the night even kinder, her body radiating with the amount of rest she had been blessed with. I see the way her lips move when she talks, the skin of appearing lush on most days. Yet I still remember how they appeared slightly chapped when she made her way inside that first day she arrived as the spring still struggled to shake the winter off outside.

I see the way her eyes struggle to remain open when sleep threatens to overtake her on our plane rides back, her delicate eyelashes fluttering against the skin just beneath her eyes. I think about the way her body slumps in the seat next to mine and the way her shoulder leans against me as her sleeping body gravitates towards the warmth my body exudes. And I think about that night when her hand held on so tightly to mine as if I was the only other person that existed in that moment, and I feel my throat close as my longing to touch her the same way crashes throughout me. When I finally see her, when she walks in through those doors and struts by with a gentle smile as her life begins to reshape itself, I sit and stare with admiration in my eyes and it's as if I've lost any ability to speak.

The feeling of a loved one is always considered a blessing. The amount of happiness that it brings when your lover, your child, or your own mother embraces you is something that will never be described to its fullest extent. It's a sense of security. It's a sense of importance, knowing that the other person has thought about your well being and that their first instinct upon seeing you is to wrap their arms around you.

I never knew that a pair of arms could ever feel like home until I was in hers.

I received a call from my mother's current home to let me know that her condition was worsening. She was stumbling into nearby establishments with no recollection as to how she got there or why. The team knew of her condition, but I had kept most of it to myself.

The truth is that I adore my mother. I curse myself for ever once feeling as if she was a burden, as if she was hindering my life. I see now that she only ever gave me the best of herself and gave me the best childhood a schizophrenic mother could offer to their son. I only wish I would have appreciated it much sooner.

"You alright Spence?"

My heart stopped when I heard her voice. We were alone as everyone had gone home for the night except for Hotch who remained in his office. She looked exhausted, just as I did.

"My mom," was all I could manage to say.

She stood still for a second as she observed me, biting her lip in that same manner she did whenever deep in thought. The next thing I knew I had been pulled out of my chair and up to my feet as her warm arms wrapped around me as our bodies collided. My initial reaction was to freeze at the sudden action but soon enough I relaxed into her.

And I cried. I sobbed into the crook of her neck as tears rolled down my cheeks and landed against her own skin. She simply hummed soothingly and rubbed my back in a comforting manner and for a moment I felt myself question why I had ever denied physical interaction with other beings.

It was the look on her face when I pulled away that really affected me. It wasn't one of pity like I was used to whenever my mother was mentioned. There was genuine concern in her eyes as her hand reached out to gently wipe away the salty tears that had streaked down my face. I could see the skin on her neck glisten with them and I looked away embarrassed only to catch sight of Hotch watching our exchange through his window. We made eye contact and he gave a simple nod before his gaze returned to whatever laid on his desk.

We walked out together and she offered me a ride which I accepted. You would think that after being friends my heart wouldn't beat as fast as it did whenever she looked at me. You'd think that my mind would have found a way to get past these feelings, a way to make me find rationality and accept that I'd most likely never be the one to own her heart.

It is a terrifying thing to feel as if you don't belong to yourself, but I am happy that my heart seems to have chosen someone so kind.

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _October 17th_

Halloween is nearly upon us and I find my childish side begging to burst through. I am happy to announce that this month has been filled with nothing but joy.

JJ and Will invited me to visit a pumpkin patch with Henry. I of course couldn't say no to seeing my godson and surrounding myself with such a seasonal wonder. Little did I know that JJ had also invited her. I would have thought it an innocent invitation had I not seen JJ's triumphant smirk when I was left completely breathless the moment she answered the front door.

The two of us were thrown together the entire time. We laughed, played games and won those small silly toys that were handed out as prizes. By the end of the night her arms were overflowing. Despite my lack of athletic skills, my mathematician mind was good at calculating just exactly how to win at the ring toss and other games. She had seemed impressed and I for once was feeling elated at my own skill.

I think we were all children that night as we enjoyed the small delights that the pumpkin patch offered. JJ and Will watched as their son went on the small rides and even allowed him to convince them to enjoy some face painting. Since she was always one to enjoy the little things, she tagged along and emerged with a pink butterfly just across her left cheek. She was so full of youth and energy that night that I couldn't help but fall a little deeper in love with her.

We both shared a pumpkin, carving what was supposed to be a ferocious face into it and ending up with a lopsided grin. Next to us JJ was snapping away photographs of the entire night, successfully capturing our laughter and easiness. I felt proud looking at the pumpkin. It was something we had done together.

The night grew colder and I offered her my jacket as she had forgotten to bring her own. She had accepted after my insistence and I noticed the subtle red blush creep onto her cheeks as she tightened the jacket across her body.

There's something special about seeing the one you love in your clothing. It's like you're a part of them, and they a part of you. I wish I could explain how it felt to see her in something I owned as the string of lights lit up around her, meant to illuminate the small place we were in and instead illuminating her as if she was the main attraction, the sole reason as to why anyone had bothered to leave the comfort of their houses to brave the cool night. All I can say is that it took all of my strength and concentration to keep the ludicrous smile that threatened to spread onto my face from ever reaching the surface.

That night ended with our pumpkin carried in my hands as hers were filled with stuffed toys as we all piled back into Will's car to head on home. My heart nearly tore through me to fly away in pure elation when we stopped in front of her house. Within a second she had leaned over and placed a small kiss on my cheek before bouncing out of the car. Just a second, maybe a fraction of a second, but it had been enough to make me lightheaded and feeling as if I was in a dream.

"Wait! Your jacket!" she called as she quickly threw it back inside just as Will was about to pull out of her driveway. Henry laughed as the jacket hit him squarely on the head before his small hands handed it to me. The rest of the ride I had to endure the teasing of a small child while his parents simply exchanged knowing looks between them. I could feel my cheeks burn as I simply ruffled his blonde hair, knowing well that I was just as excited as he was.

That was just two days ago and I swear I can still feel the ghosts of her lips on my cheek, and I can still smell her delicate fragrance on my jacket. I've already called her twice and both times we remained on the phone for hours as we talked about whatever passed through our minds. And I feel so cliché as I lay in bed with a huge goofy grin on my face while I think about her as if I'm a part of some teenage romance film, but I can't help but feel that this is more than right.

Best Regards,  
Spencer


	6. Chapter 6

_November 29th_

Dear Friend,

The holidays are an odd time. There are lights hung everywhere illuminating the streets with small glowing crystals that make the city look like a sort of comforting heaven a child conjured up in a dream. You walk through the streets and can smell the pumpkin spice floating from coffee shops, you can smell the slow roasted turkey being carved and served in restaurants. The air is crisp, the leaves on the trees a sea of oranges and reds of every shade imaginable. It's my favorite time of year when I can hear the crunch of the leaves underneath my feet as I make my way to work in a heavy coat with a warm cup of coffee to warm my hands.

They're an odd time because you can see the sadness in people's eyes although their smiles try to convince you otherwise. The holidays are famous for being the time that families come together, the time when families join hands during thanksgiving dinner. The time that they gather around the Christmas tree sipping hot cocoa. It's the time when the year ends with fireworks and excitement as you kiss the one you love underneath the colorful lights that fill the night sky.

Not everyone experiences the holidays the same way. I know that's true for me.

I flew out to Vegas to spend Thanksgiving with my mom. She hates flying and in her condition I didn't want to cause her more stress. She was more than happy to see me although it did take a moment to register on her face as her mind struggled to place where she knew me. I'm glad to say she still remembers me although it does take a fraction of a second.

I had decided to take her out of the home she was staying at for the night. Instead I checked us into the most luxurious hotel I could find. She deserved that much.

You can imagine my surprise when there was a knock at my door. I had booked adjoining rooms and could see my mother getting ready to go out to dinner so I knew it wasn't her. You can imagine my face when I opened the door and saw her standing there.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Did I mind? No. I was thrilled. She explained how Penelope had booked her a flight and tracked my credit card to let her know where I would be staying. The team back home was enjoying Thanksgiving together, something I was missing as I resided in another state for the night.

"I think everyone should be with loved ones on Thanksgiving. So now you have me here too."

I couldn't explain to you how much her words made my heart sing. I couldn't tell you the panic I felt as she walked into the hotel room and caught sight of my mother. For a split second I thought this was it. She would meet my mother and decide she didn't want to spend her Thanksgiving with a woman who couldn't remember much else.  
Instead she rushed into the adjoining room and introduced herself. My mother was taken by surprise but the smile on her face was genuine as she showered her with compliments on her dress and earrings.

"I know who you are!" she had exclaimed as she recognized her. "Spencer's shown me pictures of you! You look beautiful when you sleep. A true doll."

I couldn't fight the deep blush that crept into my cheeks. Of course my mother would remember _that_ picture of them all. She merely laughed and looked at me with a raised eyebrow but I found no judgement in her eyes. It was then that I took her in. She was dressed fairly fancy and I assumed Penelope had let her know about our dinner reservations. There was no doubt in my mind that she had even called ahead to let them know it would be three dinner guests instead of two.

I always think she can't get any more beautiful and somehow I am always proven wrong, because it wasn't until she was under that dimly lit restaurant with a sparkling smile on her face as she laughed at a horrible joke my mother told that I finally understood her true beauty. Her beauty came from inside. Forget the fact that she was naturally stunning on a physical level. It was her smile, her laugh, her kindness that radiated throughout her that was what it was all about. It was her inner beauty- her understanding, her compassion, her livelihood that had made my heart melt away as if I was just another lovestruck fool. And maybe I am, but I don't think I mind.

So it was later when my mother had gone to sleep and she and I sat on the soft carpet floor with a bottle of champagne being passed back and forth that my mind decided that I need to do something. I was on a high that night as the alcohol rose to my brain and I could swear there were small stars rising off of her skin as I looked at her. She was ethereal, with the warm flush of her cheeks and the captivating smile she wore as we spoke about everything and nothing all at once. We both passed out in midst of laughter and drunken hugs, never once overstepping that boundary and yet craving to lay beside each other.

That was the best sleep I have ever had-laying on a carpet floor still dressed in fancy attire with her warm figure lying just inches away.

I've come up with a solution. I'll write her a letter. I seem to be better off writing than I am getting the words out and spoken, and maybe this way I can truly convey my feelings. So I think I'll write and hope that I have the strength to send it her way. My mother always said the worst type of love is the one that is never admitted.

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _November 30th_

To my dearest,

I don't think there is any other way to start this letter than to state what I have been hiding for so long.

I love you.

And somehow I think you know that. I think you've known that for a while. I think you can see it every time I look at you. I think you can feel it in every embrace. I know I do.

Every single time you smile it's as if a rush of dopamine is sent to my brain, throwing me into a trance of pure happiness and excitement. Every time you laugh, that sweet melodic sound that seems to be as pure as your soul ever was, it's as if my heart doubles in size. I can't explain precisely how I feel but I know that staring at the stars with you was the most exciting thing I had ever done. I know that feeling your skin against mine as you held onto my hand was as reassuring as a candle being lit in a dark room, providing just barely enough light and yet filling you with comfort all the same.

You chose to spend Thanksgiving with my mother and I. That was something that sent my heart pounding as I watched you two interact. You have no clue how at peace I was that night, surrounded by the two women who mean the most to me. You have no idea how my mind filled with scenarios of us on every holiday after, dangling a near perfect future in front of me.

All I know is that I've never had as much fun as I did with you when we visited that pumpkin patch together, or when we shared that bottle of champagne in that Las Vegas suite as if we were just another pair of drunken adults ready to enjoy their night in a city that seemed to always buzz in excitement. The most exciting moments of my life seem to always be by your side.

I wish you could see my dreams where your face is painted in such delicate strokes, your eyes shimmering with stars of yellow as if Van Gogh himself had imagined you and decided that such a beauty had to be told. I wish you could see yourself dancing in the shades of golds and silvers, as elegant as the Greek gods with such a charming way to your every move that even Aphrodite would find herself burning with jealousy.

Maybe if you heard these things you would run away. Maybe I'm just a madman for falling so deeply for someone who I haven't known for years. But there are millions of people who believe in love at first sight and if I had ever seen a work of art, it was the moment you walked through that door. The moment I saw you was the same moment that my breath was taken away and never truly given back. It was the moment that my mind was consumed by you, the moment you held all the power to bend me to your will, to toy with me, to do as you pleased. And yet you didn't. You unknowingly held my mind in the palm of your hands and treated it with nothing but kindness.

Maybe I am a fool for confessing my feelings, but I would rather be a fool than to live forever not knowing. The only thing I know for certain is that I never truly understood what love was until you were willing to sacrifice yourself for me, and I had never felt peace until your lips pressed ever so softly against the skin of my cheek. And I find nothing but solace in thoughts of you, and I feel as if that's the way it will always be.

My heart flutters like a hummingbird every time you look at me and my stomach is filled with whirlwinds full of butterflies of vivid color, yet another reminder of the physical effect you have on me. And it is when I am with you that I am no longer afraid. I am not afraid of the darkness because you are the light. I am not afraid of loneliness because your being radiates comfort beside me. I am no longer afraid of my mind because it was in you that I found my sanity.

I love you. I am so deeply, irrevocably in love with you to the point that yelling it from the rooftops is not enough. I want to write it down in sonnets, I want to paint it in color across canvas, across walls, all in order for you to see it. I want it to consume you just as it has consumed me, filling every corner of you with joy as the love I have vibrates through you, down to your feet and into the earth.

I want you to know that the man that sits across the room from you every day is the man that dreams about holding you. I dream of everything, from gentle touches to passionate embraces. I dream about the talks, the laughter, the soft murmurs before you fall asleep. And in my dreams I can still smell your sweet scent, I can still feel your soft skin, I can still hear your voice whispering things that my mind desperately wishes to hear.

I love you. I don't think I ever truly understood what falling in love was like until you waltzed into my life and took hold of my being. It's as if everything I am belongs to you if you are willing to have it, and I don't think I would have it any other way.

I so desperately hope I had the courage to send this to you. Maybe it's currently in your hands being read in silent disbelief by you, or maybe it's out lost in the world, its words destined to remain unread by you. Either way, I hope the universe finds a way to send all of the love that is laced in every word written here to you. And I hope you feel it. I hope you feel that same rush of warmth spread through your veins like I have felt, and I hope it makes your heart beat faster. I hope it makes you smile that dazzling smile that you possess and I hope you know that you will be loved for all eternity by a man who's been too soft-spoken to admit it until now.

With all of my heart,  
Spencer


	7. Chapter 7

_December 27th_

Dear Friend,

The letter to her sat at my desk for weeks. I couldn't bring myself to mail it, much less give it to her in person. It sat underneath a pile of files gathering dust with each passing day. Yet somehow it managed to fall into her hands just days before Christmas.

I had asked JJ to grab a file from my desk and she saw the letter addressed to her. She didn't even think twice as she picked it up and dropped it into her hands. I had stared frozen in my spot as she looked at it curiously, recognizing my handwriting and tearing it open. It was like watching my life flash before my eyes the instant I recognized the envelope and I rushed out of there before anyone could even comprehend what was happening. I left everything behind except for my phone, keys and wallet that sat comfortably in my pockets. My jacket and satchel remained abandoned at my desk as the team looked around questioningly to each other. They didn't understand the gravity of my situation. Confessing your undying love was something I had little experience in, and rejection was something I didn't want to feel.

I managed to hide out for a few hours. I spent the rest of the day in between book shops and cafes. After a few calls from Hotch I simply texted him that I had had an emergency and then shut my phone off. After hours of mindless wandering I finally decided it was time to go. I hoped to come home to an empty hallway. That didn't turn out how I expected either.

I found her asleep against my door when I finally arrived home around eleven. My heart softened as I saw her head rested against the door, my jacket and satchel thrown across her lap and held even in her sleep as if she was afraid someone would come along and steal them. So I summoned up all the courage I could and decided to accept that the time had finally come as I gently shook her awake. I was ready to face whatever was coming.

She yawned and stood, handing me my belongings in the process. I opened the door and she merely walked in as if she owned the place. She walked through the apartment as if she owned it and I watched with curiosity as she walked into my bedroom. She was quiet the entire time. She didn't mention the letter. She merely smiled as I followed behind her unsure of what exactly was going on.

"Are you going to get in bed or not?"

Her voice was soft and playful as I realized that she had already kicked her shoes off and was underneath the soft covers. Her eyebrow was raised, daring me to come closer. And I did. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in next to her, my body's temperature rising at the simple fact she was in my bed. She had the most gorgeous smile on her face as she leaned in closer, inches away from my face and whispered the words that would make me the happiest I've ever been.

"I'm in love with you too."

What came afterwards was a blur of feelings. It was soft and tender kisses that led to a passionate embrace that led to clothes being thrown and scattered. It led to laughter and "are we moving too fast?" and the quick dismissal of such questions. It led to soft caresses and glorious new wonders as we touched in a way I had never experienced before. It led to stars glowing on skin as the night passed by. It led to notes leaving her soft lips as her moans sounded like music to my ears.

I never knew what it was like to feel so wanted until it was her hands that were on my skin. I never knew what God felt like until I felt her body unravel at my touch like a flower blooming in the rays of a devoted sun. I had never seen such stunning eyes until I saw hers mixed with an alluring mixture of love and lust, something I had only ever pictured in my wildest dreams. And suddenly I was a child on their birthday receiving the one gift their parents had said they couldn't afford, and I had never been so grateful as I was the moment her lips touched mine and continued to whisper those three words over and over until my heart felt ready to burst.

I wish I could describe what it felt like to finally let all of the love I had finally pour out of me. It was such a relief to be able to look at her and say, I love you. I have loved you for so long and I will love you forever more.

I wish I could tell you how it felt to have her repeat those words back to me. To have her confess her own love that had grown since before the night in the field. A love that had begun the moment she walked in and caught sight of my smile. Hearing such lovely words trickle from her soft lips with ease and sincerity was enough to keep my smile permanently on my face for the rest of the night, and quite possibly the rest of my life.

We spent Christmas together. She flew out with me to see my mother again and I can't even explain how much that meant to me. She could have flown out to see her family. But she didn't. She chose to be with mine. My mother's eyes lit up when she saw us walk through the door and she let out a happy laugh when she saw my arm wrap around her. It was a small and intimate night, but I wouldn't have changed a thing. My heart was happy and my head was clear of the fog that usually threatened to invade, and I can't help but think that it's her who's the one driving the demons away. This is what love is, right? When you can't stop thinking about the other and everything they do is adorable and charming and you really just want to spend every waking moment together. I'm so in love with her and this is only the beginning.

Best Regards,  
Spencer

* * *

 _May 2nd_

Dear Friend,

It's been awhile since I've written and I have to admit it's all due to having a significant other. It's a happy thing, and I suppose I'm simply writing to catch you up now.

Having someone to kiss underneath the fireworks as everyone rings in the new year is something that I never really pictured happening to me. I never really imagined having soft lips and warm arms to hold while the night sky lit up with all sorts of colors. Yet that's exactly what happened as the team celebrated the coming of a new year and she stood in my arms. It was as if I was in a dream.

I didn't mind the teasing that came from my friends. I didn't mind the jokes about the genius finally getting the girl, or the way everyone cheered the first time they saw us kiss. It was all good natured and light hearted. She found it amusing and took it in stride as did I.

That's how we spent New Year's Eve. Together, our bodies gravitating towards each other until our hands met and became a catalyst for affection. I never really knew just how amazing someone's physical body could feel until I met her.

It wasn't about sex. Sure, that was probably the most wonderful thing I had ever felt in my life and to have someone so beautiful writhing in pleasure underneath me was something I'd only ever dreamt of. But it was how we made love. How I could feel that adoration in every single touch and in every kiss we shared. Sex is always described as this animalistic thing where hormones are raging and all the other cares about is getting their pleasure at the end of the night. And sure, that did happen with her, but there was always something different. I could see it in her eyes that she was excited and happy that it was me, and I'm sure my eyes reflected the same as they looked down at her. Making love is such a different feel than simply having sex.

It was always about our connection. She's exciting and fun. She brings me out of my comfort zone without ever once forcing me to do things I don't want to. I pick up on her moods and adjust my behavior to it. We genuinely care for each other- always there to be a shoulder to cry on or someone to share a smile with. She makes me happier than I've ever been.

"I'm glad it's you," Hotch had said quietly as he stood next to me that night. His eyes lingered on her and I remembered the fact he had developed feelings for her just as I had. But his eyes were sincere as he looked at me. They were not filled with jealousy or hate. They were honest.

"I couldn't imagine two people who deserve more happiness," he added as he took a drink. I nodded and thanked him, smiling as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder in a hug. Things had finally seemed to fall into place and I was more than grateful.

That was nearly half a year ago and yet I remember it as if it was yesterday. It's a curious thing how time seems to fly by when you're happy. The days all blur in a mixture of smiles and laughs, as if one bleeds onto the other like a painting that's never finished. My days are painted in bright colors now. Vivid hues of yellows and reds that resemble the amount of joy and passion that now consume my every day life. I wake every morning with a bright grin on my face, eager to see where life takes me.

I have to admit that my mind is still occupied with thoughts of her at every moment at the day, but it's different now. Now I get to curl up with her at the end of the night instead of only dreaming about it. I don't have to wonder what her lips feel like because I get to kiss her as often as I want, or really as often as she'll allow it. She still invades my dreams but I can't even begin to explain how heartwarming it is to wake up from dreams of her to find her serene face nestled into a pillow beside me.

I guess I'm writing to let you know that I'm finally at peace. My head no longer aches and my heart is full. My relationships with everyone have grown stronger. I no longer feel alone. I have my team, I have my mother, I have her. It's as if the puzzle pieces have come together to create this wonderful picture and for once in my life there is no missing piece.

I want to thank you for lending your ear to my ramblings. Everything is just as it should be now so I guess this is my goodbye. Perhaps we'll talk someday again, or maybe this will be my last letter for the rest of my life. I just want you to know that I am well, complete, and more joyous than I ever imagined to be.

I have finally found my place.

Best Regards,  
Spencer


End file.
